Pokemon in the Real World
by Damos Taranth
Summary: Pokemon vanish from the worlds of the Gameboy and Anime to appear in real life, all over the world... but it's not the dream come true many kids would have thought. Pokemon aren't the happy-go-lucky creatures that they are often seen as... and they're not
1. Default Chapter

"Haha! I win again!"   
"No fair! One more time, please?"   
"I've just beaten you eight times in a row at this. Why do you bother?"   
"Grrr... I _know _I'm better than you at this."   
"Alright, one more time, just to prove I'm better."   
With a few buttons pressed, the two battle screens came up. Both combatants stared deeply into the screens of their handheld systems. The pokémon battle begun.   
Both players were avid pokémon obsessionists. Each imagined himself in a real battle, the stadium seperating them as they both reached for their first pokéball.   
"Go, Charmeleon!" Cried Andrew, throwing the ball in. It split, fell open and revealed the powerful fire pokémon.   
"Squirtle, I choose you!" His opponent, Callan, threw forth his own ball, bringing out the blue turtle.   
"Scratch, Charmeleon!" The fire pokémon hit it's opponent with it's claws, throwing it back powerfully.   
"Squirtle, use Water Gun!" Callan called. While all that showed on the screen was a few drops falling onto his opponent, they vividly imagined the pokémon unleashing the huge water jet. The life counter for Charmeleon ticked down to just above halfway.   
"Use your Rage attack!" Cried Andrew in their imaginary battle. Charmeleon unleashed a massive clawed punch on Squirtle.   
"Use Water Gun again!" Squirtle caused a critical hit, hitting the burning tip of Charmeleon's tail, which had been exposed by the rage attack. This weakened Charmeleon down until it collapsed, fainted, but Squirtle had been badly hurt too. Callan jumped for joy while Andrew lay in shock over the defeat of his strongest pokémon.   
"Now you've done it!" He cursed Callan, looking up from his Gameboy. "See how you like this!"   
As Callan watched the screen, Andrew's Pikachu appeared. It was six levels down from his level fifteen Squirtle, but super-effectiveness coupled with Squirtle's already serious injuries made it dangerous. Squirtle only got in a single Water Gun before being taken down by a thundershock.   
"How about a Geodude?" Callan brought out the pokémon, immune to electric attacks. "Rock throw!" Several rocks were brought down on the poor pokémon's head.   
"Enough, Pikachu." Andrew returned the almost-dead pokémon. "Go, Nidoran!"   
Looking at Andrew's second-strongest pokémon, Callan felt a twinge of fear. "Tackle it, Geodude!" The Rock pokémon flew forward into a full miss.   
"Double Kick attack!" Andrew called. The super-effective fighting technique left Geodude for gravel.   
"Good job, Geodude. Go, Kadabra!" Callan unleashed his newly-evolved, level sixteen, very high-speed psychic pokémon. "Confusion attack!"   
Nidoran was swept back from the force of the blow. It retaliated with a Horn Attack, before being hit back with another confusion.   
Almost defeated, it lay on a Poison sting attack. Callan watched in horror as the words 'critical hit' came up, closely followed by 'Kadabra has been poisoned!'   
"Oh man..." He muttered, imagining his Kadabra growing green, swaying from side to side gently. It lay out another confusion, knocking out Nidoran.   
"Yes..." Callan knew if he could beat two more comparitively low-level pokémon, he'd win.   
"Zubat, I choose you!"   
"Kadabra, confusion!"   
Maybe it was the effects of the poison, or just general bad luck, but the attack missed.   
"Zubat, supersonic attack!"   
"Oh, no..." Callan mumbled as the attack connected. The poison took it's toll again, weakening Kadabra further. He knew his next attack would backfire, but he tried anyway.   
"Confusion!" As expected, it backfired. Combined with Zubat's leech life and the poison's effects, Kadabra fainted.   
Knowing his Pidgey would probably be able to beat the Zubat, Callan brought it out next. But he had forgotten about the half-dead Pikachu sitting in his opponent's list...   
"Pikachu, Thundershock!" The attack pulled Pidgey down well past halfway, as well as Paralyzing it. The paralysis prevented Pidgey from attacking, and the next thundershock killed it.   
"Oh man..." He brought out his fifth and final pokémon, which he had barely started to train. Andrew's Zubat took down the level 4 Rattata easily.   
"See? Told you!" Andrew laughed as he taunted his opponent. "Face it, you can't beat me!"   
"Yeah, 'cos you get fluke after fluke. I keep missing, you get critical hits, poison my my Kadabra and Paralyze my Pidgey with one single shot!"   
"Don't be a poor loser."   
Callan grumbled quietly, the glanced over to the clock, which showed 10:50. "Whoa, I didn't realise it was that late. Come on, we should get to sleep."   
As Callan fell into his bed, he thought he heard Andrew laughing softly from the mattress where he was staying the night at Callan's house. Callan's expression turned stony, but this went unseen in the pitch black room.   
"If pokémon were real, I know I could beat him." He said to himself, very softly. "That might be cool..."   
He shrugged, turned over, and was asleep within minutes. 


	2. Chapter 1

Callan awoke the next morning, yawned, stretched, opened his eyes... and froze solid. He felt like someone had just pulled all the connections that allowed him to move his body. He just lay there, arms still streched out, mouth hanging open, staring at a little yellow creature curled up on his lap. Two long ears stuck up, twitching slightly, and a splash of red could be seen just below. It snored softly.   
When he had gathered his wits enough to move, he poked the sleeping creature gently. It squirmed, shifted position, and sighed. "Kaaaaaa...."   
"Ooooooookaaaaay..." Callan prodded it a little harder. It squirmed again, and it's eyes slowly opened.   
"Chu?" It said, looking at Callan. Then it seemed to realise what it was looking at, and let loose with a large thundershock.   
"Aaaahhhhhhhh!" Callan and Andrew both cried out as the huge electric currents hit them.   
"Pikachu! Pika pikachu chu chu pipikachu!" The little Pikachu snarled, electricity coursing through it's cheeks as if preparing for another attack.   
"Whoa! No!" Callan said, holding his arms up. Andrew groaned.   
"That hurts a lot more than it looks." He managed to say, then looked around and realised what had just happened. "A Pikachu?"   
"Uh, no, a growlithe." Callan said, a little snappy in his fear.   
"What's a Pikachu doing here?"   
"I do not have a clue. Hey, Pikachu, would you mind calming down a bit? We don't want to hurt you."   
Pikachu looked confused for a moment, then ran outside.   
"Okay, so... pokémon are real life now?"   
"Ummm... Yeah." Was all Callan could spit out.   
Andrew looked at his watch. "There's an episode on in a couple minutes. Why don't we see if there's anything different?"   
Pikachu was racing around calling "Pikapi! Pikachu!" constantly. Callan and Andrew plonked down in front of the TV, and Callan turned it on with the remote. The familiar starting theme came up.   
"So you want to be a master? _(Pokémon!)_ Do you have the skills to be... _(Number one?)_"   
After the intro had finished, An image of yet another of the Orange Islands came up. The Narrator made his usual opening speech, and Ash and his friends appeared, asleep on the couches in a pokémon center.   
"That was a good nap, huh Pikachu?" He waited for a response, and, getting none, immeadiately started looking for his pokémon. He couldn't find it.   
"Hey, Pikachu, where are you?" He called, not too loud so he wouldn't wake his friends. Behind Callan and Andrew, the Pikachu stopped racing around and came up to the television.   
"Pika?" It said, confused, then said "Pikachu!" happily, and loudly.   
"Pikachu, where'd you go?" Ash wondered. He gently shook Misty and Tracey awake.   
"Hey, guys, Pikachu's missing!"   
"What?" Misty looked around, and only then did Ash realise that Misty's Togepi was missing too.   
"Misty, your Togepi's gone too!" He said, panic starting to build.   
"What?" Misty practically screeched.   
The Pikachu was just getting more and more confused, and was pawing the cartoon of Ash. Callan thought about how different it looked in real life, then clicked on what Pikachu wanted.   
"You're Ash's Pikachu?" He asked. Pikachu swirled around, having forgotten they were there, then glumly nodded.   
"This is not good."   
We all turned back to the show.   
"Hold on, I'll see if Marril can find them." Said Tracey, throwing a pokéball. It landed, split open... Empty!   
"What?" Tracy was shocked. He threw out the rest of his balls, but all were empty.   
"My pokémon are gone!" He cried in shock. "Marril... Venonat... Scyther..."   
Ash threw all his balls too. None contained any pokémon. Misty did the same.   
Ash ran up to the counter of the center and hit the bell. "Nurse Joy!"   
"Yes?" She came in with a yawn.   
"All of our pokémon have vanished!"   
"What? I'll check the center." She raced off, and was back in a few seconds. "They're all gone!"   
"I'll bet Team Rocket has something to do with this." Misty said angrily, tears welling in her eyes. "My poor Togepi..."   
"I don't know," Tracey said thoughtfully. "Jesse and James don't seem organised enough to pull of a stunt like this without anyone noticing."   
"Well, let's go anyway."   
The scene dissolved into an ad break.   
"Somehow I think the creators of pokémon didn't come up with that script."   
"Pika... chu..." The Pikachu was on the verge of tears. "Pika..."   
"Hey, don't worry." Callan scooped the little pokémon up and patted it on the head. He searched for some comforting words, but found none.   
"Hey, let's watch." Andrew pointed, the show coming back on.   
"Ring-ring-ring, ring-ring-ring, phone call, phone call. Ring-ring-ri..." There was a series of connection/static noises, before it came up with a picture of Professor Oak. He looked half-dead, woefully depressed instead of his usual cheery self.   
"Oh, Ash." He said. "Has it happened to you too?"   
"If you're talking about missing pokémon, yes."   
"I just don't understand! How can every single pokémon just vanish into thin air? Half the trainers who started here have called."   
"It's happened here too. All the trainers are complaining, the pokémon center has been wiped clean, and Pikachu's gone!" Ash started to cry, then his expression went furious. "I'm going to go find Jesse and James."   
He hung up the phone and walked out, closely followed by Misty and Tracey. The scene changed.   
"There they are!" Ash cried. "Get 'em!"   
"Wait!" Jesse cried, swinging around. Both she and James looked quite the worse for wear, uniforms torn and scrapped, their eyes red. It was obvious they'd been crying. Shock horror, even their hair was a mess. Ash quickly noted that Meowth was nowhere in sight.   
"Your pokémon are gone too, aren't they?" Misty asked softly. Jesse nodded miserably.   
"We've been searching for Meowth for _hours_." James said, sniffing lightly. "All our other pokémon have disappeared too."   
"What are we going to do now, guys?" Tracey asked. "It's not Team Rocket..."   
"Not these two anyway."   
"Hey, that's right!" James suddenly brightened. "It might have been some of the others!"   
"They must be pretty good to take out every pokémon. They're missing from everywhere."   
"I think," Jesse said determinedally, wiping her eyes, "That it's time we paid the boss a little visit."   
The scene changed again. All three of them were staring anxiously at the television, the suspense killing them.   
"WHAT? What do you mean, our pokémon are gone?"   
The unlucky operative that had 'volunteered' to inform the boss of this misfortune flinched until his head was lower than his waist. "They've just disappeared, like they were never there."   
"Oooooohhh..." Giovanni growled.   
"Sir!" Another operative walked into the doorway and saluted. "There's a group at the door to see you."   
"Who?"   
"Two of them are wearing the white uniform, the others aren't. They all look pretty angry."   
Giovanni swung round in his chair, pressing a button. A video image of the group outside appeared. Giovanni growled louder.   
"Jesse and James!" He half-shouted to himself. "What are those bumbling idiots doing here? Oh, let them in."   
"And the others with them?"   
"Hmmm... Maybe they've done something right for a change. Bring them all in."   
The doors opened, and the five were led through corridors filled with evil-looking black-uniformed men and women. Misty was having second thoughts about coming here, but Tracey and Ash pushed forward, determined looks on their faces, ignoring the agents. Jesse and James were halfway between deadly determination and being scared to death. Eventually they came to a wide hall, and the two agents leading them bowed and left.   
"Boss?" Jesse and James asked together. A light came on, only partly illuminating his face. Shadowed as always...   
"Are you the one who caused all the pokémon disappearances?" Tracey called up to the half-hidden face.   
"No, I am not." Giovanni's voice boomed. It was not technologically enhanced, as it usually was, but just wholesomely evil.   
"But, if you didn't, then..."   
"All my pokémon have been stolen also. Every one in this building, belonging to every agent. Has this happened elsewhere too?" His voice dripped with curiousity.   
"They say every single pokémon has disappeared, sir." Jesse answered, gulping. "Maybe..."   
"Pokémon have left this world? Ha!" Giovanni snarled. "Impossible."   
"Well, it's the best we can come up with..." Misty sighed.   
Back outside of the TV, Callan and Andrew's suspicions were confirmed. Pokémon had impossibly vanished from their universe, and appeared in the real world.   
"I don't know whether to be shocked or thrilled." Callan murmured, staring at the television almost blankly.   
"Ditto."   
"Pikachu!" Pikachu wiped a tear from it's eye, then ran straight out of the house. Callan and Andrew stayed sitting there, lost in thought, before leaping up on some unheard signal and running to the door. They looked outside.   
_It was complete chaos._   
Pokémon had infested the entire town. A few stray Spearow flew through the air, confused. A dodrio raced down the street, passed by a Rapidash leading a pack of Ponyta. One or two houses were burning, several more on the verge of collapse. Diglett popped up here and there from under ground. A Magnamite swarm floated past, heading for the local power plant.   
The pokémon were here to stay, and they were letting everyone know that. Good and loud.   
"I had no idea pokémon were so... destructive..." Andrew said, softly.   
"No kidding."   
Andrew raced back inside, coming back in about half a minute, game boy in hand. The intro for pokémon rolled up... without pokémon. The image of a trainer simply stood there, while the pokémon that should have been flashing by... didn't.   
"Bad sign." Andrew said, as he moved the little cursor to 'continue'. A few minute's work showed the same result as the show - everyone complained about having lost their pokémon. Not one could be found in the grasslands.   
"It's no use." Andrew whispered. "They're here. And I don't think they're very happy about it." 


	3. Chapter 2

The two boys slowly backed into the house, just in case a stray attack flew their way. As they went in, they heard a scream of sirens. A flash of red passed as a fire engine zoomed by. A couple of stray pokémon, confused by the noise, attacked it without much luck.   
"Y'know, I always wished pokémon would appear in the real world..." Andrew said thoughtfully. "Now I'm not so sure."   
"Agreed." Said Callan with feeling.   
"Maybe we should see whether there are any other pokémon in the house." Callan said slowly. "I don't think we want it to burn down."   
"Okay. You go that way." Andrew went and searched the other side of the house.   
"Hmmm..." Callan moved silently around the house, half-running into his mother, who had come out to see what the noise outside was.   
"What's going on?" She asked around a yawn.   
"You'd never beleive me if I told you. Pokémon."   
"What?" She asked, but Callan had moved on. She looked out of a window, and fainted. 

~-~-~-~

"No pokémon in here." Callan said to himself, having searched through the bathroom. The only thing he had found so far was a Zubat in one of the closets. He peeked into his own room, and noticed something strange on his desk. He walked in and picked it up.   
It was a small circle of metal, slightly thinner than his finger and fit into his palm comfortably. It was a silvery-gold colour, with the slightest hint of deep blue in the right light. It was heavy, and very cold, but somehow comforted him. He was still examining it when Andrew walked in.   
"Chased a couple of Rattatas out of the attic but..." He started, then noticed what Callan was holding. "What's that?"   
"I dunno, I just found it next to my bed. I guess we were so suprised by this pokemon thing we didn't notice it."   
Andrew reached out to hold it, and Callan felt a sudden urge to keep it away from him. He didn't have to, however. Andrew recoiled from it after just one touch.   
"Yeeeooow! How cold is that thing?" He said, blowing on his fingers. A layer of skin had been taken off. The thing was glowing, ever so slightly, a deep blue.   
"Hey, there's some sort of scratches on it." Callan observed. He looked at it from every direction. Andrew did too, but careful not to touch it.   
"How come you can touch it and I can't?" Andrew asked. "It's bloody freezing, and you're holding it like it was like any ordinary piece of metal."   
"It's very cold..." Callan admitted. "But not freezing."   
"Not fair." Andrew muttered. "Hey, what's this?" He pointed to another object, half hidden in the clutter of the desk.   
"Hey, it's a pokeball." Callan said. He was about to pick it up, but Andrew snatched it away first.   
"You get that thing, I'll take this pokeball." Andrew said. "That's fair."   
"How about this: You give me the pokeball or this gets pressed into your face." Callan held up the object threateningly.   
"D'y'reckon there might be a pokemon inside?" Asked Andrew, almost ignoring the deadly threat. "Let's see. Pokeball go!"   
He dropped the pokeball. A beam of red electricity shot out and solidified into a Squirtle, and the ball flew back to Andrew's hand.   
"Hey, it worked! I would have preferred a Charmander though..."   
The Squirtle spun around, Watergunned Andrew to the floor, grabbed the pokeball from his hands and gave it to Callan, who laughed.   
"Not your day, eh Andrew?"   
Andrew's muttered curses were cut off by a loud scream from the next room. Both of them jumped up.   
"You didn't check your sisters' rooms, did you?" Andrew asked dryly.   
"Nup. Come on, Squirtle!"   
"Squirtle!" It waddled after them.   
Callan's younger sister Angela, who was only six, was cowering, her head under her pillow. An enraged Scyther was tearing her room to shreds.   
"Oh crap." Both of them commented together. Squirtle cried out in fear and withdrew into it's shell. Callan got an idea, waited until Scyther was distracted by a hard-to-cut object and ran across the room. He pulled open the curtains, grabbed the nearest thing (A softball bat) and hit the window with it.   
It smashed. Hard.   
The noise was deafening, and Callan was cut by the glass several times on the way to the floor. The Scyther saw the opening and flew straight for it, accidentally kicking Callan in the head as it flew out. He groaned.   
"Quick thinking, Callan." Andrew commented. "You OK?"   
"Yeah, I'm fine." Andrew helped him up. He looked at the scratches. "They're not that bad."   
"Stands to reason, right?" Andrew said. "Think about it. In the pokemon world, they never get hurt as badly as they do here. And heal quicker. If the pokemon are here, maybe it works like that here too."   
"If this didn't hurt so much I'd say this was a dream." Callan said, rubbing one of his cuts. "Hey, it's a cartoon, of course they don't get hurt as much."   
"Yes, it's a cartoon." Andrew said dryly. "Which is also why little yellow mice can throw electricity, fire-breathing dragons exist, tiny birds call forth huge tornadoes..."   
"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture." Callan said, then looked to his sister, still shivering uncontrollably. "Hey, sis..."   
She flinched away from his touch, shivering harder.   
"Don't worry, it's gone now." He said softly. Angela looked up slowly, raw terror in her eyes.   
"Shhh... It's okay."   
"What... was that?" She managed to say.   
"What's going on here?" Callan's dad poked his head around the corner. "Oh my god! What have you done here?"   
"There was a big scary monster!" Angela said. "Callan made it go away." She again regressed into the shivers, curled into a ball.   
"Callan, what happened?"   
"She's right." He said simply. "There was a Scyther in here. It was tearing up the place, so I broke the window and it flew out."   
"A Scyther? Isn't that one of those pokemon whatchimacallits you're so obsessed with?"   
"Uh-huh."   
"Yep."   
"What? I'm completely confused." He said, holding his head. "Oh, and why is my wife unconsious in the hallway?"   
Callan and Andrew stood aside, giving him a good view of the outside world through the window. Just like his wife, he fainted.   
"I think that makes life a lot easier." Commented Andrew.   
"What, both my parents lying fainted on the ground, my sister in shock and pokémon running around destroying the city? Just great."   
"Well..." Andrew couldn't think of a good answer.   
"Come on, let's get moving." Callan said. "I think we should check out your house."   
After propping Callan's family on the couch and leaving a note, the duo set off to Andrew's house. It wasn't hugely far, about five or ten minutes' walk, but they wanted to get there _fast. _They ran as fast as possible, and got there within three minutes.   
Or at least where there used to be.   
"Oh no..." Andrew moaned.   
Andrew's house appeared to have been in an area where an Articuno had appeared.   
They surveyed the devastation. More than an entire block had been reduced to rubble, and the rubble frozen solid. Several bodies, human and pokemon, blue through the solid ice, could be seen. Callan spotted one of Andrew's sisters among them.   
"H...how could this have happened?" Andrew managed to say. The temperature was well below zero, but it seemed to be affecting Andrew more than Callan.   
"This is really not good." Callan pointed out the bleeding obvious.   
"Artiiicuuuuuuu!" Called a voice from further on in the block. They exchanged a glance, and ran. 

~-~-~-~

"Cuuuuuuu!" It grew even colder than before as the huge ice-blue bird unleashed an Ice Beam, freezing three more policemen and half a police car solid. The remaining policemen, only two, shot wildly at the creature.   
Most of the gunshots missed due to sheer fear, but red blotches growing on it's wings showed it had been hit at least five times. It's intimidative stance began to flop, and it was beginning to weaken.   
"Quick, Squirtle, go!" Callan said, thinking quickly. If Squirtle wasn't in the ball...   
"Pokéball go!"   
The legendary 'god of ice' heard the call, taking it's attention from the gun-firing policemen to glare hatefully at Callan. It caught the flying pokéball in it's beak, and with one quick movement crushed it in half. Callan stood in shock.   
"Stupid!" Andrew hit him over the head lightly. "You think you're gonna catch an Articuno with a regular pokeball?"   
"It was worth a try..."   
"Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!"   
The cry was incredibly shrill and loud, catching everyone off guard. While the Articuno had been distracted by Callan's pokeball, the two policemen had taken the initiative to shoot the damn thing carefully. It's almost-white chest plumage stained red, a suprised look in it's eyes, the graceful ice bird flopped to the ground, dead, in the middle of the frozen ruin it had created.   
Andrew wasn't interested in the fate of the bird, however. He ran back to the ruins of his house, clearing away the frozen rubble, looking for his family, unaware of the damage he was doing to his hands. They were red, raw, and brutally scratched after only a couple of minutes of digging.   
"Andrew?" Said a timid voice behind him. He spun around.   
"Jenny!" He cried. His other sister, seven years old and a good friend of Callan's sister Angela, was looking at them like they were angels come to save them all.   
"What happened here?" Andrew asked.   
"It was awful!" She cried. "I heard some sort of screeching from outside, so I went out and saw the Articuno! I thought it was really cool at first but then it saw me and looked at me really nasty so I just screamed and ran away as fast as I could and I heard some crashing and screaming and saw it knocking down houses and..." She stopped, and burst into tears.   
Andrew just stood there, dumbfounded. Callan tried to calm Jenny down a bit, but couldn't think of anything to say. Her entire family had just been killed, and there is very little that could compensate for that.   
"Come on. Let's go back to my house." He said sadly. They turned away from the horrible destruction and walked slowly back to a place of relative safety.   



	4. Chapter 3

Callan, Andrew and their remaining families sat watching the news. Several others were there too, friends of them and their families, many with missing members among their own friends and family. Nine out of ten houses had been destroyed, and those that were left had the survivors stacked inside them.   
"The horrific appearance of the strange creatures, known for years as the childrens' marketing craze 'Pokémon', has been a deadly day for the world." The news reader said sadly. "The death count has already topped one billion, and is rising fast. It is believed that another billion, maybe two, are badly injured and without proper medical treatment, which is obviously unavailable for so many, will probably die within the week."   
"Oh god..." One of the others in the house sobbed, holding his head in his hands. The news reader droned on, explaining how cities worldwide had been leveled, some burnt, some frozen, some still crackling with electricity...   
"How could this have happened?" Asked a friend of Callan and Andrew's, Owen. He had only just escaped his house as it collapsed under an Onix's huge bulk; his right arm was broken and right leg badly injured, but he was a fighter and didn't show the pain. "I don't even like Pokémon. Now they're trying to kill everyone on earth."   
"I think they're just confused." Callan said softly. "They've just vanished from their world into ours, in random spots, trained ones losing their trainers, free ones losing their families..."   
"Yeah, but that's no excuse for killing off a sixth of the world's population in one day." Andrew said, even softer.   
"I just got an idea..." Callan said, looking brighter suddenly. "Come on, Andrew, I'll explain on the way."   
He ran out, snatching up a backpack as he went, leaving andrew to follow.   


~-~-~-~

"Yes, I was right!" Callan said, as he stoked through an abandoned and suprisingly barely damaged convenience store. He showed the contents of the box he'd found to Andrew.   
"Pokéballs..." Andrew looked over the thousands of balls in the crate.   
"Yep!" Callan said, pulling out two smaller crates and opening them up. "Great and Ultra balls too, by the look of it." The next two boxes were full of more ornate pokéballs, the great balls having blue instead of red in the coloured section and a 'G' printed in green type, and the Ultra balls purplish with a large 'U' in yellow.   
"Hmmm... D'you think we can just take 'em?"   
"Think about it Andrew. If we go out and capture Pokémon, we'll be trying to save a few people from the Pokémon, right? Services for all mankind and all that." Callan tried to keep a straight face as he said this, but failed.   
"You're beginning to sound as corny as the people on the show." Andrew pointed out with a laugh, but picked up some of each type anyway, putting them in the backpack. "But you still sound much more intelligent." He grinned.   
"T'ain't hard." Callan scooped up Ultra balls by the handful.   
"So you want to head out on a pokémon journey, sorta thing?"   
"Yeah, works for me."   
"Well, what would count for a Pokémon laboratory?"   
"What use is that?"   
"Well, we'd need some pokédexes, so we can keep more than six Pokémon at once..."   
"Why not just keep them all together?"   
Andrew shrugged. "Spose so."   
"And anyway, we know practically all there is to know about the damn things, so who cares?"   
"You're right, I guess." Andrew sighed.   
"Come on, we'd better get home and pack some stuff."   
"Right." Andrew, usually the dominant of the two, was shocked at how fast Callan had taken charge. But he didn't mind, and ran after Callan back to his home in the fading dusk light.   


~-~-~-~

  
"What's that?" Andrew asked. A bright light was flaring near Callan's house.   
"Three guesses." Callan, although nearly exhausted, ran harder. He dropped the backpack, heavy with over a hundred pokéballs, greatballs and Ultraballs.   
The light turned out to be a Charmeleon. In a quick glance he took in the situation: It had suprised Squirtle, who he had left behind to guard the house, and kicked it into a wall. One of the people he didn't know who had taken shelter in his house was lying on the floor, burnt quite badly. It was growling at the rest, threatening them.   
"Oh, this is just great..." Andrew commented.   
"I've got an idea..." Callan said carefully, digging in his his pocket for the disc of metal he had found in his room. Holding it in his hand, he began to sneak up behind the Charmeleon.   
"What are you..." Andrew began to whisper, but Callan tensed and waved for him to be quiet. He was only a couple of metres from the fiery Pokémon when it swiveled around and regarded him with pure hatred and suspicion.   
"Charrr....." It released a low growl and started circling him warily. Callan, holding the disc in front of him like a cross to a vampire, turned to follow it.   
"Chaaaaaar!" Unexpectedly, the Charmeleon let loose with an impressive flamethrower. Callan braced himself to be hit, but never was. The fire came within about a foot of the disc then seemed to weaken as it got closer until it was barely hot smoke when it hit Callan. He grinned, feeling invincible.   
"Yah!" He jumped at the confused Charmeleon, and managed to press the disc onto it's back. It gave a roar of pain and clawed futily at Callan, then let out another weak roar and dropped to the ground.   
"Damn this thing's cool." Callan put the disc back in his pocket, and the others in the house looked at him like he was a god.   
"Wha... what did you do to it?" Asked Andrew's sister.   
"Half froze it solid by the look of things." Andrew bent down to check it. "It's still alive, barely."   
"Be back in a moment." Callan raced off again, to where they'd come from.   
"Where did you two go?" Callan's father asked Andrew. "About ten seconds after you ran off, that blue Squirtly or whatever just flew across the room and hit the wall, and that red creature appeared."   
"We went down to the local shop." Andrew said, standing up.   
"And got some of these." Added Callan, who came up again holding the discarded backpack. He took one of the pokéballs out of the backpack, and tossed it lightly, hitting the half-frozen Pokémon easily. It was sucked in, causing more comment among the others.   
"How'd you do that?"   
"What did you do?"   
"It's a pokéball. Maybe if we all survive you might try to learn a bit about Pokémon." Andrew said.   
"Andrew." Callan nudged him. "Calm down. You know pokémon isn't popular for most. Especially now."   
"Yeah, you're right." Andrew said. "I think it's a bit ironic that these guys have been telling us that we're way too old for pokémon and should give it up, and now..."   
"Yeah, I know." Callan looked at the ball in his hand, containing the injured Charmeleon. He held it out to Andrew. "Here, this one's for you. I'm not really into the fire-types."   
"Gee, thanks." Andrew said, half sarcastic and half sincere. "It's not really gonna be much use unless we find a pokemon center somewhere in town."   
"And plus, if we're gonna leave these guys, we should leave something to protect them."   
"Hmmm..." Andrew suddenly had an idea. "Do you have another backpack?"   
"Yeah, sure... it's in my bedroom..." Callan realised he was talking to blank air. Andrew reappeared a few seconds later.   
"It's about time I had a good idea." Andrew said. "Be back soon. See if you can catch a pokemon for the nice people here." He ran off.   
"Is it just me, or is this getting repeditive?" Callan asked no-one in particular. "Oh well."   
With a grunt of effort, he climbed on top of the house, something he had done a lot in the past. He sat down and watched for hostile pokemon, fiddling with the ultra-cold disc in deep thought.   


~-~-~-~

"Hey Callan, that's probably not a good idea." Called a voice from below. Callan snapped out of his thoughts, looking down and seeing Andrew holding the backpack, which was bulging with strangely shaped items.   
"Wha? Why? I can see for miles up here."   
"Yeah, if you were actually looking. And the downside of that is that you can be _seen_ for miles as well. And anyway, it's practically pitch black, so you can't see anywhere."   
"Well, what difference would it make? If they'd attack me, they'd attack the house, like as not." Callan took three jumps, from roof to ledge to... a tree that he remembered too late had been removed by a Machoke to take down a nearby policeman. Callan landed awkwardly on all fours.   
"Ow... slightly..." He rubbed his knees, trying to ignore the intense pain in his right wrist.   
"You okay?"   
"Bumped and bruised..." He said slowly, getting up and swivelling his wrist, then cried out in pain.   
"Ow! Geez!" He held it up. He could still move all his fingers, so it probably wasn't broken, but it really hurt.   
"I don't think it's too serious, but you can throw the pokéballs for a while."   
"You sure?"   
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Callan said, his expression saying the exact opposite. "What did you get, anyway?"   
"Think. If the shop sells pokeballs, then it's probably going to sell..."   
"Potions! Why didn't I think of that?"   
"I think I read somewhere these things work on humans..." Andrew said. "Wanna try it?"   
"Go for it." Callan held out his injured wrist. Andrew opened the bag, and took a container shaped like a spray gun, and with a tag saying 'Potion: 300'. Before the 300 there was a weird symbol, unlike any they'd seen before.   
Andrew gave the thing a few squirts onto Callan's wrist. Callan howled in pain as there was a sickening _snap_, and with a quick hit knocked the potion out of Andrew's hand onto a rock where it smashed.   
"Whoa!" Andrew backed off, scared. Callan calmed down and felt his wrist. It still ached, but didn't hurt nearly as much as it had before.   
"Damn, must of been dislocated or something." He muttered. "Hey, what are you scared of?"   
Andrew had turned white. He tried to regain his composure, without much success.   
"I dunno, don't worry." He tried to sound calm. _Whatever that was, it was weird..._   
"Well, we'll heal up Squirtle and Chameleon and see if we can find a pokémon to leave with these guys for protection.   
"OK." Callan pulled out the ball containing Squirtle from his pocket. It seemed mostly recovered.   
"Ahh, don't worry about it. Stay out anyway, Squirtle."   
"Charmeleon, go!" Andrew called out the half-dead pokémon. Squirtle growled quietly, backing onto Callan's legs as if protecting him.   
Andrew pulled a potion out of the backpack, thought for a moment, put it back and pulled out a super potion. Spraying it all over Charmeleon's frozen back, then a little on the front and tail. The flame on it's tail grew much larger quite quickly, and it started to stir.   
"These things are pretty effective." Callan commented   
"Hey, what do you say we go pokemon hunting tomorrow? It's like 11:00 here."   
"24 hours." Callan said thoughtfully. "One day of pokemon, and this much damage done..."   
"So what do you think the Earth will look like in a week?"   
"Apocalyptic aftermath." Callan grinned gravely. "Earth's population reduced to millions. By a month, it'll be thousands."   
"Unless people get to know their pokémon."   
"Not a chance."   
"Nup."   
"Come on, let's go to bed."   
Callan plopped onto his bed and was asleep within minutes. Andrew stayed awake, brewing.   
Was that guy even human? He could hold a disc of metal which was impossibly cold, stop fire attacks in their tracks...   
And when Andrew had sprayed the potion on him, the cry he gave was anything but human. And he could have sworn that, for a split second, Callan's dark brown eyes had glowed royal blue... 


	5. Chapter 4

Callan slept, and dreamed...   
"Callan, Callan, can you hear me?" Called his mother's voice.   
"Callan, wake up!" His father.   
He distantly felt the sensation of being shaken, hard, but it felt so far away...   
"What's wrong with him?" He heard Andrew ask.   
_Why can't I see anything?_ Callan thought as he concentrated. _Let me open my eyes!_   
Sight broke into his consciousness. He felt so tired... he could barely open his eyes a slit. The slit he saw showed his room with his family and Andrew's looking at him, concerned. He knew something was wrong with this, but he was so tired... he couldn't think...   
_They're too healthy! _He realized. _They're not scared of the pokémon, not worried... Hang on, Andrew's family were killed by that Articuno!_   
The tiredness overcame him, and his sight faded, closely followed by the worried calls of his family. But Andrew's voice continued to yell clearly.   
"Callan! Wake up! Help! CALLAN!!!!!"   
Callan awoke with a start to see Andrew defending himself from a couple of Sandshrew.   
"Ah, you're awake at la- look out!"   
A third Sandshrew jumped onto his head, by it's expression it was intent on relieving him of a couple of eyeballs. He cried out, and hit it.   
Hit it with a hand which happened to contain the deadly disc.   
Within the milliseconds the Sandshrew had been in contact with the disc, it froze solid. It's body, made of earth and made brittle by the disc, shattered as it hit his desk. Andrew and the other two Sandshrew stopped fighting and stared at the remains of the pokémon. As one, they turned and stared at Callan.   
Callan was half in shock. The disc had been in his clothes, thrown carelessly on the floor; how did it get in his hand?   
He looked at the pieces of Sandshrew, then looked at the other two with a homicidal grin on his face. As one, they jumped into the holes they had come in by and ran for their lives.   
"Weak against ice." Andrew said after a moment. "Come on, there's more of them through the house."   
"Right." They both moved out into the corridor. The carpet was ruined, and another Sandshrew was roaming through it.   
"Squirtle, I choose you!" Squirtle emerged. "Water gun!"   
"Squirtle!" A thin but high-pressured stream caught the Sandshrew full in the stomach. It cried out shrilly, before passing out.   
"Shrew!" Several more calls came from throughout the house.   
"I think there might be more than I thought." Andrew commented dryly.   
"Do me a favor, get a couple of my sis's softball bats, would you?" Callan said from the corner of his mouth. "Squirtle, cover the floor with bubbles. As many as possible."   
Squirtle nodded, and began shooting bubbles all over the place. There were a couple of thumps from Angela's room.   
"One of 'em got in there." Andrew came back holding two bats. "But it got tangled in the curtains the Scyther ripped down."   
"Well, here they come!" Callan pointed at the Sandshrew moving round the corner. There were at least ten.   
"Squirtle, water gun 'em to bits! Andrew, try to knock them into the bubbles, or just whack them till they stop wriggling." With that, Callan dived in, and crushed the first one with a incredibly hard double handed down strike. It practically cracked in half.   
"Sandshrew!" The others protested at the loss of their fighter. Two of them dove at Callan's face.   
"Shrew freeze!" Callan quickly held up the disc. One of them hit it with their claw; the arm froze and snapped off while the rest of the Sandshrew fell to the ground in shock. The other grabbed his arm, and hung there looking at it's teammate, before Callan swiveled and Squirtle watergunned it off.   
The remaining shrews weren't so eager to attack. Andrew yelled at Callan to get out of the way, and threw his bat full on at them. The bat weighed more than they did, and was much stronger; three more fell unconscious, and another lost his head to the projectile.   
"These things aren't very strong, are they?" Callan commented. The few remaining Sandshrews wisely remained back, glaring angrily at the insult.   
"Crumble like wet sand." Andrew said. Another of them snapped and tried to claw at his face, but was blown back by Squirtle's Water Gun blast.   
Two of the Sandshrew remained, apparently wondering whether to stay and avenge their fallen comrades or run like the wind. After a moment's thought... they ran. Squirtle aimed a water gun, but it only hit one of the retreating pokémon's tail. It melted, and fell off.   
"I love my job." Callan commented.   
"Come on, we've gotta see whether anyone was hurt."   
Callan ran after him, almost slipping on the frozen and crumbled Sandshrew remains.   
It turned out that there had been some casualties: One guy had had an eye gouged out. The blood and gore was everywhere. He was quite obviously dead, but there was a hint of irony: Apparently when the Sandshrew had attacked him, the rush of blood had also killed it. After close examination, they found it wasn't anyone they knew, but someone from the neighborhood who had nowhere else to go.   
"That is seriously not pretty." Andrew commented.   
"Uh-uh."   
"I think we go and leave him for the Spearows."   
"What?!" Callan was shocked.   
"Well, we're not gonna leave him here, and we don't want him anywhere near our house to attract more pokémon."   
"Still, that's being a little..." Callan couldn't think of a suitable word, and left it blank..   
"Well, if we're gonna survive what's ahead, we're all gonna have to be a little..." Andrew emphasized the silence with a hand motion. "If we'd caught one of those Sandshrew, we might have been able to dig a grave. But I ain't busting my back doing it."   
"If we drag him away there's gonna be a blood trail. Big red arrow saying 'Come and get us!' and pointing straight for our door."   
"Use your Squirtle!" Andrew gave the corpse's legs a tug, dragging him across the room leaving a dull red trail.   
"I suppose so."   
"Or we could just get Charmeleon to burn the body."   
"How many predators do you think that will attract?"   
They dragged the body outside.   
"Just a suggestion."   
"Why don't we cook it and eat it then?"   
"Callan!" It was Andrew's turn to be shocked.   
"Kidding!" Callan waved him down. His grin faded. "We're really getting into this, aren't we?" He asked, soberly.   
"Soon, I don't think we'll have much choice." Andrew answered. "We might even end up eating 'em sooner or later."   
"If there is a later."   
"Amen."   
For a while they were silent, dragging the corpse out into the middle of nowhere.   
"The rest of the world couldn't have been this bad." Callan looked over the crumbling ruins of the once bustling city. "If the death count's only one billion..."   
"_Only_ one billion?" Andrew asked incredulously. "_Only one billion?_ That's one-sixth of the world's population down the drain!"   
"Yeah, but let's look at this." Callan's arm swept over the rubble. "How much of this city's pop do you think is still alive? How many people lived here? Two, three, four million? How many are left now? I'd be suprised if there's more than two thousand. One in one or two thousand survived. If the entire world had been that bad, that'd be a death count of..." He did some quick math. "About five billion, nine hundred ninety million."   
"I hadn't thought of that." Andrew said, paused thoughtfully, then shook his head hard. "This is not the sort of thing kids like us should be talking about."   
"This is not something anyone should be doing." Callan agreed, nodding to the body.   
"Do you think this is far enough?"   
The house was barely visible in the distance. Callan nodded.   
"Should be OK."   
"Let's get back then."   
"And let's stop talking on such depressing subjects."   
"Squirtle!" Callan tossed the ball lightly, and the blue pokémon came out. "Wipe out the blood trail here, please." He said, pointing to the rather weak trail. It wasn't nearly as obvious now, but further towards the house it was quite clear. With a rush of water, the red smear dissolved into the damp ground.   
They slowly trundled home, pausing every few metres for Squirtle to wash off the ever-thickening trail. When they were about two thirds of the way back, Squirtle squinted at the house, then started yelling and pointing.   
"Something's attacking the house!" Callan yelled, and raced off. Andrew and Squirtle followed after.   
Before they had gotten far they saw the flying specks above the house. They cleared the run as fast as they could, stumbling over rubble and broken glass, jumping over melted asphalt and skidding over frozen sections. The attackers were clearly visible now, and audible too.   
"Speeeer!"   
A triumphant call, by at least a dozen voices. It was very shrill, and Squirtle stumbled for a moment.   
"Fear!" Another, much deeper voice called.   
"F'row!"   
"Feeeearow!" Two more responded, one sounding muffled.   
"Speeeer!" The Spearow called again.   
Andrew and Callan came speeding up to the house, skidding on the rubble as they stopped. Squirtle raced up and skidded in front of them.   
It would have been quite a comedic moment, to a casual observer. The seven Spearow and single Fearow that could see them stopped their destruction of the house to look at these angry newcomers. With a wave of the Fearow's wing, four of the Spearow descended on them.   
"Go, Charmeleon!" Andrew called. Charmeleon appeared, looked up at the Spearow diving at it, and let loose. A crispy and immobilized bird pokémon fell to the ground. Another blast of fire, and another spearow fell.   
Squirtle's Water Gun left another too soggy to fly, and Callan held up the disc to a fourth. It pecked it, freezing itself up to the neck, which broke off. Looking at the body, Callan noticed blood on it's claws and beak.   
The Fearow, shocked at how easily it's minions had been defeated, gave a shrill cry of rage and descended upon them, the last three Spearow following close behind.   
Blasts of fire and water took out two of them, and the final Spearow circled up for a powerful dive, but the Fearow screamed straight at the only apparently defenseless one: Andrew.   
Andrew stood in a ready pose while the huge bird approached. Charmeleon was keeping an eye on the final Spearow, Callan was too far away and Squirtle's attack missed. It seemed like there was no hope for Andrew... (Pardon the dramatic corny moment, everyone. -Author)   
At the last second, Andrew's hand swung from behind his back, and in one smooth movement, the softball bat hit the Fearow just below it's beak, knocking it up and away from Andrew. Another sweep, and the Fearow lay knocked silly on the ground. Callan quickly slipped off his backpack of Pokéballs and it was sucked in.   
The final Spearow let out a shrill cry of fury and circled above the house. In ones and twos, the other Spearow and Fearow rose up. There were two more Fearow, and eight more Spearow. The two kids and their pokémon readied themselves for battle, but it never came.   
The birds took in the six fainted Spearow, and the disappearance of the other Fearow, and decided it wasn't worth the bother. They dived back into the house, the roof of which was virtually destroyed, and flew back out hauling various unrecognizable objects. However, the blood and occasional piece of flesh that fell from them, it quickly became obvious.   
"Squirtle, Charmeleon, attack!" Callan yelled. Squirtle attacked without question, bringing down one and winging another, but Charmeleon hung back, looking first at Callan suspiciously, then at Andrew to confirm.   
"Attack!"   
Sadly, they were too far away for flamethrower or water gun to hit. Charmeleon growled, crouched slightly, as fire built in it's mouth. With one sharp movement, a fireball flew at the Spearow, and hit full on: The hit Spearow instantly vaporized in the heat, and three of the ones beside it fell. One Fearow was knocked downwards but recovered, and it and the rest flew on.   
"That was impressive." Andrew said, patting Charmeleon's head. "I don't remember seeing that in the pokémon game..."   
"Ah well, I'm not complaining." Callan said, heading for the badly damaged house. "Come on!"   
It was chaos. It seemed the birds had killed everyone in the house, and taken most of the bodies too. The place was sprayed in red blood, and it stunk like crazy. There were a couple of Spearow bodies here and there too, and another Fearow. They had put up a fight, but not much of one. But they'd done pretty well to take down the Fearow. It had a heavy knife sticking out of it's thin neck, and an extremely suprised look on it's face.   
Callan fought back the tears as he moved through the house in a daze, looking for signs that someone, anyone, had survived. He stiffened suddenly, hearing a noise. Listening carefully, he heard it again: a small sob.   
Digging through the rubble with great fervor, he realized when he heard it again that it wasn't coming from beneath. He found the source of the voice soon enough: it was his sister Angela, and Andrew's sister Jenny, cuddled up together shivering in the bathtub, in the one room that was still less than half-destroyed. Most of the walls were still standing, although with holes from the powerful pecking of the Spearow. There was even quite a bit of roof left, although that was quite full of holes too.   
Callan moved up to them; their clothes were drenched in blood and torn, and they seemed to have some pretty bad wounds. He moved up to them, patting them on their backs.   
"You two are real survivors, aren't you?" He said softly. They started to look up to him, when all of a sudden, the walls started to shake.   
Through one of the many holes in the wall opposite the door he had come in by, a huge torrent of water spurted, knocking him straight back through the door he had come from. He skidded, and bumped into some softer rubble. It would cause bruises; nothing more.   
He looked up to see the room he had just been knocked out of shudder and collapse to the ground, collapsing _inward_ so that all four walls and roof crashed into the room. On top of the two girls. There was no logical way they could have survived, but Callan jumped at the rubble anyway.   
He heard a strange snigger, and saw the two Sandshrew that had run away earlier laughing at him. He knew it was them, since one of them only had a half-melted stump for a tail.   
"You bloody stupid pokémon!" Callan snarled at them, and was just about to jump at them when a huge gust of fire swept over them. The temperature was incredible; Charmeleon surely couldn't do that! The two shrews, being made of sand, hardened into glass statues as the huge attack wafted over them. They were well and truly dead. He turned to the attacker.   
He was right. It wasn't Charmeleon, instead it was one of the most powerful fire pokémon: Ninetails.   
Giving him a very suspicious glance, the graceful firefox began digging into the rubble. Soon it was buried halfway up it's bushy tails, then gone.   
Callan was in too much shock to move, so he slumped into a half-sit, half-crouch which didn't look very comfortable. Everyone here... the last human life in the area... torn to shreds. His and Andrew's sisters... he could have saved them, but then that blast of water had knocked him out of the room. He knew, deep down, that if it hadn't he would have been killed in the collapsing room too, but that didn't stop him screaming at himself in guilt, thinking he should have done _something..._ those bloody Sandshrew... He looked at the two glass statues, kept in their sniggering pose forever. Not if he had anything to with it... he forced himself up, picked up one of the Sandshrew statues and immediately dropped it, clutching his scalded hands.   
He grabbed the disc from his pocket and clutched it tightly, and his hands stopped burning. After about half a minute, the pain died away altogether, and the burn marks were barely noticeable. He held the disc to the glass Sandshrew, and as it cooled far too rapidly, it cracked loudly twice then shattered of it's own accord. He held the disc to the other statue, and had the same effect. He turned around, and saw the tips of pure-white tails, slightly dirtied by the rubble, followed by the rest of the tails, the body, and the head which was dragging something up from the ground. He recognised it as the huddled forms of Angela and Jenny, beaten and broken, and quite dead.   
He took a step forward to see the two girls, but the Ninetails dropped them and growled, low and loud, crouching as if ready to pounce, until Callan backed off. He didn't know if even his disc could stop the fires of this powerful pokemon.   
The Ninetails began to snuffle around on the two girls, inside their clothes and around them. Callan let out a cry of protest and moved forward again, but Ninetails began to flame at the mouth and he backed off again.   
It sniffed at the girls for a few minutes longer, then seemed to have found something and pushed in between them. It's head came out again, smeared with blood and dirt, holding a tiny creature in it's mouth: A Vulpix, a baby, small enough to fit in the palm of Callans hand, and with only one tail. Ninetails put it down gently, gave a look to Callan that said quite clearly, _Touch my child and you're in big trouble_, and started sniffing at the bodies again. Apparently unsatisfied, it turned back to the hole, looked at Callan, it's baby, gave Callan that look again and disappeared down the hole.   
Callan was confused. Fire pokemon seemed to have something against him, it seemed. But then, really, the only two other types he'd seen so far were flying and ground, and they didn't seem quite thrilled about him either.   
Andrew, Squirtle and Charmeleon appeared, having searched the rest of the wreckage. Squirtle looked releived to have the whole thing over and plonked itself down next to Callan, looking dirty, dusty and tired. Charmeleon spotted the tiny Vulpix sprawled on the ground, sniffed it gently, looked at the hole, and set itself on guard between it and Callan.   
Andrew slumped on the other side of Callan, sighed, and then noticed the bodies. "Hey, aren't they..."   
"Yes, they're our sisters." Callan said, the his voice flat and emotionless, mostly through shock. "I found them, alive, huddled in the bathroom, but a couple of seconds later the two Sandshrew that escaped earlier collapsed the roof..." He told the entire story. As he was finishing, the Ninetails began to reappear from the hole.   
It was carrying a much lighter load this time: three more little Vulpix babies. It put them down next to the one it had found with the girls. One was completely crushed, there wasn't a chance of it being alive. One looked rather hurt, it's rear legs damaged, but the other two looked fine, just scared. Quickly taking in the situation, the Ninetails nodded its thanks to Charmeleon, then curled up around her babies.   
"I think there's not much point in us staying here." Andrew said, watching the Ninetails start to breathe slower, falling asleep. "I think we spend one more night sleeping here and then go on a pokemon journey."   
"Just what we've always wanted to do, right?"   
"Yeah, but now it's personal." Andrew clenched his fist, looking at their sisters lying dead nearby.   
"Get to sleep." Callan hit him on the head lightly. Finding a spot not covered in hard rubble and dried blood, the duo quickly fell asleep. Squirtle just pulled its limbs and head and its shell lay there, snoring gently. The military Charmeleon, however, snorted at their lack of caution and sat itself down to keep watch for the night. 


End file.
